


Please Come Home for Christmas

by rjwritergirl



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28308789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rjwritergirl/pseuds/rjwritergirl
Summary: Years after falling in love; Peggy and Steve finally spend Christmas together.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	Please Come Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Except for a few phrases I picked up while watching TV or movies, I don’t know enough German or French to write the dialogue needed for this fic. So I put it all in italics and just tried to clarify which language they spoke in the first part of the fic.
> 
> I got the title from the song “Please Come home for Christmas” by Southside Johnny Lyon. I was listening to the Home Alone soundtrack on repeat while writing this.

**_December 15th, 1944: Düsseldorf, Germany_ **

Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter scanned the shop, waiting for the HYDRA agent to come in on his morning rounds. The shop owner looked over at Steve anxiously.  _ “Gibt es alles, was sie kaufen möchten?” _ the elderly woman asked. In perfect German, Peggy told the shop owner what they were looking for in Christmas presents. They hadn't planned on buying anything, but while they waited, they needed to blend in.

Steve could tell Peggy wanted to buy some of the British cosmetics. Just the night before, she’d complained that both her nail polish and lipstick were running low. Instead, Peggy concentrated on the handkerchiefs and suspenders as she offhandedly mentioned her parents. After buying one of each, she carefully folded them into her bag.

The HYDRA agent entered the shop, Peggy and Steve were on high alert. But their covers weren’t good enough, and there was soon an enormous mess and a dead HYDRA agent in the middle of the rubble. As the rest of the Commandos took the body away, Steve went to the shop owner and attempted to pay for the damages. The shop owner shook her head.  _ “Nein. He’s been horrible. I’m glad he’s gone.” _

_ “Are you sure?”  _ Steve asked with a perfect German accent.   
  
The woman shook her head vigorously. “ _ Nein,”  _ she repeated. “ _ Those Nazis terrorized my other customers. They are gone. I will have business again.” _

“Captain.” Peggy came up and spoke in French,  _ “The boys are ready to leave; we have another base an hour away we need to take care of.” _

Steve turned to leave, but the shop woman motioned for him to stop. She picked through the British cosmetics and handed Steve one of each, including the last bottle she had of red nail polish.

Steve set down on the counter two pristine cartons of cigarettes and a full ration book they’d pulled out of the HYDRA agent’s pockets. He smiled and waved as he stuck the cosmetics in his pockets. He’d wrap them up and give them to Peggy for Christmas.   
  


If Steve had known it would be his last Christmas in the ’40s, he might have tried harder to give Peggy the presents in person. Instead, Peggy was called back to London before Steve got the chance to talk to her about exchanging gifts. Finally, he wrapped the cosmetics up and set it on her desk the next time he was in the SSR building.

Peggy never mentioned it out loud, but Steve did find a thick knitted hat and scarf in his pack the next time they went out to take down a HYDRA base.

  
  


**_December 25th, 1945; New York City;_ **

Peggy sniffled as she lay in bed. She usually didn’t let sadness over losing Steve take center stage, but this was the first Christmas he’d been gone. The war was over now, and she was sure their dance would have turned into something more. At least her heart hoped it would have.

Would she always wonder ‘what if?’ What if Steve had managed to get them his coordinates? What if he’d managed to land the plane, not crash it?

What if’s were useless now. And Peggy quickly dressed to go down to the SSR building. She’d offered to help handle the phones on Christmas day so some of the men could stay at home with their families. She wanted to think it was something Steve would have done were he here.    
  
Pulling on her hat and gloves, Peggy picked up her purse and settled it on her shoulder. Casting a glance over at the decorated tree in the corner of the living room, she felt her eyes brim with tears. Clenching her jaw, she willed them back. Tears on Christmas were bad luck, she told herself. Taking a deep breath, she yanked open the heavy door and stepped on to the porch, into the frozen morning air. Looking over her shoulder, she gave one last glance.   
  
“Merry Christmas, Steve,” she said, then closed the door soundly behind her.

  
  
  
  


**_December 25th, 2011: New York City_ **

Steve sighed and flipped open his compass for what was probably the 100th time that day.

Technically it was his first Christmas after the war, and yet, it was nearly 70 years later. Even as the future spun, honked, and existed around him, it was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that 67 years had passed.

Peggy’s file sat on the coffee table. It contained a phone number, and part of Steve wanted to call her. But he’d gone to see her in the Nursing Home several times since he’d come back, each time she’d sobbed with joy that he’d managed to survive. Alzheimer’s, they called it. 

No. Calling would only confuse her.

Reluctantly, he went to get dressed. Natasha was holding a Christmas dinner at her apartment, and although he would rather stay home, it was best that he attend. It was better that he wasn’t late.z

Adjusting his tie in the mirror, Steve pulled on his heavy coat and grabbed his keys. Glancing at the small Christmas tree with the beautiful angel on top, Steve gave a little smile.   
  
“Merry Christmas, Peggy,” he whispered. Then he yanked open the door, closing it quietly behind him.

  
  
  


**_December 25th, 1952; Washington DC._ **

Although she was proud to be British, Peggy happily threw herself into American culture. She and most of the Commandos had bonded over baseball, and the few times she cooked, she tended to use American recipes. It was her home away from home.   
  
However, every Christmas day, she made sure to brew a kettle of tea, put it in a thermos, and drive to either Fort Hamilton or Fort McNair to listen to the King’s Christmas message.   
  
This year, though, was different.   
  
As usual, she awoke early and drove to Fort McNair. Peggy always made the long drive alone, having moved to DC in ‘49. This year, however, she was accompanied by her fiance, “Grant.” Steve had come back from the dead less than a year before, and she’d hidden him in the little house Howard had bought and gifted her. They were set to be married in the spring.

Arriving at the base before 6 am, Peggy fiddled with the radio in the control tower. Finally, she got the radio tuned, and she turned the volume up as “God Save the Queen” played over the speakers.

Peggy yawned and curled up in a chair. As she sipped from her delicate china cup that was decorated with a spray of English roses on the side, a male voice spoke: “Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth.”

The room around Peggy quieted as a woman began speaking in a cultured but halting tone.  _ “Each Christmas, at this time, my beloved father broadcast a message to his people in all parts of the world. Today I am doing this to you, who are now my people.”  _ A couple of younger soldiers came in, laughing boisterously. Morita shushed them with such ferocity that they backed out of the room, eyes wide.

_ “Most of you to whom I am speaking will be in your own homes, but I have a special thought for those who are serving their country in distant lands far from their families. Wherever you are, either at home or away, in snow or in sunshine, I give you my affectionate greetings, with every good wish for Christmas and the New Year.” _

Peggy smiled faintly and took another sip from her cup. Quietly behind her, Colonel Phillips, Mr. Jarvis, and Howard walked in. Mr. Jarvis sat down in a chair next to Peggy, listening intently as the Princess Elizabeth kept speaking.

“If we can do these three things with courage, with generosity, and with humility, then surely we shall achieve that ‘Peace on earth, Goodwill toward men’ which is the eternal message of Christmas, and the desire of us all.”

Peggy took another sip of the tea and then held the thermos out to Mr. Jarvis, who politely shook his head. Faintly glad she wouldn’t have to share her tea, she took another sip.

“May God bless and guide you all through the coming year.” Peggy sniffled as she turned the radio off and turned to face Steve, who was sitting behind her.

“Ahh, Colonel Phillips. I was hoping you’d get here early.” Peggy said.

Phillips smiled. “There was no way I was going to miss this; after everything you two have been through.”

“Are you finally going to tell me the surprise? Steve asked.

“You haven’t told him?” Morita’s mouth dropped open.

“It's part of his Christmas gift,” Peggy said to Morita. “I’ll explain everything on the way back to the house,” Peggy promised Steve, beaming. “And then we’ve got a couple of hours until everyone gets to our place.”

“Who else is coming?” Steve asked one eyebrow-raising.

“The Commandos, Phillips, Howard, the Jarvis’ and General Hogan’s family.” Peggy listed everyone. “Now, Darling, you can catch up later. We must be getting back to the house to get everything ready.”

Peggy slipped into the driver’s seat and gulped the rest of her tea as Steve put his seat belt on.

“Now, what’s the surprise?” Steve’s eyes were twinkling.

“Well, I was wondering.” Peggy’s mouth was suddenly dry with anticipation; she swallowed hard as she pulled out of the parking lot. “What would you say we move the wedding up early?”

“Why?” Steve asked, his brow furrowing. 

“Well, Gabe is becoming a priest, so I thought he could marry us today,” Peggy said. “I know it’s a bit fast, but darling . . .” she paused, uncharacteristically anxious. “I rather think our child would appreciate having parents who are married and I’ll be showing by the time . . .”

“What? Really?” Steve asked, his mouth dropping open in surprise, and his eyes lighting up. “Are you really, Peg?”

Peggy nodded, tears forming. “Yes, I found out last week,” she admitted, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Are you okay? Have you been to the doctor?” Steve asked the questions at lightning speed. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

Peggy laughed at his overzealous eagerness. “It’s still too soon to know. I’ll be happy with either, though.”

Steve’s eyes filled with tears that raced down his cheeks. “Are you okay?” he repeated. “Are you sure you should be driving? Have you told anyone besides me?”

“I’m fine to drive,” Peggy promised. “And I haven’t told anyone about the baby, just that I was tired of wedding planning.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’m sure Phillips has figured it out.”

A horn honked behind them, and Peggy looked behind her to find Colonel Phillips in the car behind them. Giving a little wave, Peggy indicated for him to go around. The headlights from the Colonel’s car briefly lit up the interior of the Buick, before fading away.

Peggy started to put the car in gear, when she looked at Steve. “What’s the matter?” she wondered as she watched a tear slip from Steve’s eye and slide down his cheek.   
  


Steve took Peggy’s hand in his and held it. His thumb slid over her soft skin as he tried to put his thoughts into words. “As far back as I can remember Christmas was . . . not my best childhood memory. My parents tried to make it nice--despite not having any money. After my father died, Mother tried to make it memorable. After that, it just became another day on the calendar.”

Steve reached up with his other hand and cupped Peggy’s cheek in his large palm. Peggy sighed at his gentle touch and the way they fit so perfectly together.   
  
“But now. . . ? You’ve given me a reason to celebrate Christmas today and every year after. You’ve given me the most precious gift a man can ever get: life.” Steve took Peggy’s hand and put it over his heart. Then he reached down and laid his hand on her still flat abdomen.   
  


Peggy sniffed back her tears. “I’m glad you’re alright with this.”

“Not really.”

Peggy looked confused. “Not really?” Did he not want to marry her? Had she assumed wrongly? Her eyes searched Steve’s face for answers. “I don’t understand.”   
  
Steve chuckled. “I think you forgot to ask me something.” Peggy’s mouth made an O as the meaning dawned on her.   
  
“Will you marry me?” 

Steve considered the request. “On one condition: every Christmas has to be better than the one before.”   
  
Peggy’s face broke into a huge grin. “You have my promise,” she said through the watershed of tears falling from her eyes. Steve brushed them away with his thumb.

“Yes.” He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. Pulling back, he brushed the hair from Peggy’s face. “I think we need to get this show on the road before the team comes looking for us. And before the stork arrives.”   
  
Peggy started the engine and put it in gear. “As you wish, Captain,” she said smartly, with a wink. Slowly, she pulled the car from the curb and pointed the car toward home.

Still holding Peggy’s hand, Steve couldn’t contain his happiness. Everything the doctor had promised him had come true; his good was being rewarded with good. He couldn’t wait to see what better was rewarded with.   
  


“Merry Christmas, Peggy.”   
  
“The merriest.”

And it was.

**_The End._ **

**Author's Note:**

> A. I guessed the year Peggy moved to DC.
> 
> 2\. I don’t know if the Queen’s message would have actually aired live in the US on Christmas day of 1952, or if it would have taken a few days to get a recording to the US. Work commitments kept me from doing the research needed to find that information out, but for the story’s sake, let’s say that England was able to air the Queen’s message to her allies.  
> I really went back and forth on the radio broadcast in this chapter. Queen Elizabeth did give the above address in 1952. King George VI died in early 1952 and this was Queen (Princess?) Elizabeth’s first Christmas message. (Admittedly, I did pare it down a bit since it wasn’t the entire focus of this fic.) in 2020, the Queen's message is supposed to air at 10am EST, but that time didn’t fit into the Christmas wedding storyline I wanted to spring on Steve, so I changed the time it aired.
> 
> Merry Christmas!


End file.
